


Homeward Bound

by GlassGeorgeGlass



Series: Making Right What Once Went Wrong [3]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: F/M, If I could have had him work at Mars 2112 I would have but it's too soon, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Suicide, In between the last chapter and epilogue, JD and Veronica are two kids in the early 90s trying to make it in NYC, JD works at Planet Hollywood in Times Square because it amuses me, The College Years, Things were so much cheaper in NY in the 90s guys, after high school, generational gap, post-war America observations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:41:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29144625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassGeorgeGlass/pseuds/GlassGeorgeGlass
Summary: An in-between chapter 29 and the epilogue of the main story, "So I Can See My Baby When I Leave This World." I'm not sure if this works if you aren't reading that but for those of you who are:JD and Veronica are now living in New York City. He's working and getting his life together at the same time she is hard at work in her classes and job. Veronica realizes though, there's a good chance his mother's sister still lives in the area and prods him to see his Aunt Phyllis for the first time since his mother's funeral.
Relationships: Jason "J. D." Dean/Veronica Sawyer
Series: Making Right What Once Went Wrong [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1823566
Comments: 25
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! I'm sitting here trapped by 20 inches of snow! The epilogue and the prom night one shot are coming along soon-ish (prom night is next on the docket, and part 2 of this after, followed by the epilogue is my tentative release schedule) but this came out of me first. This takes place after graduation when JD and Veronica move to New York together but included are some more flashbacks to what life was like for him and his family before his mom's death. It honestly is a really good lead in to what the epilogue of the main story is about. A lot of this is me just really thinking a lot lately about the generation changes and the zeitgeists inherent of them. JD's grandparents are GI gen, his parents are boomers, and he's gen x. I don't know, it's also got some nice JDronica (I think) moments so that should please too. Title is a reference to a Paul Simon song that gets referenced in part 2.
> 
> I tried to find a good breaking point (it ended up 40 pages and felt like I should make it a two parter-- I just really wanted to put somehting out for you guys more regularly) but be advised if it doesn't really feel natural. I dunno. I hope you all appreciate some more of JD and Veronica's journey. I honestly could write about their fix-it lives forever...

**March, 1991  
** **Queens, NY**

JD looked down at the small slip of paper in his hands. It was an address in Queens, with a name: Phyllis Morgenstern. He was nervous. He hadn’t even thought to contact his aunt until the other week. He and Veronica were sitting on his bed in his junky and cramped one bedroom with a roommate going through his photographs. 

Last September he had packed all of his stuff up from his old basement and made the drive from Ohio to New York in a little over nine hours. That first week he had stayed in a cheap motel in Chelsea— the kind he was fairly certain charged by the hour if he had asked— and knew he had to get something— anything— better as quickly as possible. He hadn’t even wanted Veronica to see it; it was so skeevy. To say nothing of what she would have been mistaken for if she did.

His plan had been to find a job— any job— first and then he was going to start looking for a roomshare or something. After glancing at apartment listings for the area he had to accept that until his finances improved his own place— possibly Veronica and his own place in a couple of years?— would have to wait. Veronica for her part had settled herself into her dorm at school, classes just having started, and a part time job at the school library. He knew she would help him if he asked but he was determined to do a lot of this on his own.

His first stroke of luck happened on day two in the city. He took a job bussing tables at the Planet Hollywood in Times Square that had just opened. It was “owned by celebrities'' and was overpriced and filled with tourists and only paid minimum wage— he was told with hard work he could be promoted to server and get tips but serving tourists didn’t fill him with the joy he thought his manager wanted out of him— but it was work. Work meant money, and any money not in his mom’s bank account he didn’t spend meant it could cover the cost of the classes he had enrolled in at BMCC— a community college— that semester and even beyond if he was able to get into the program he wanted to at City. He would have to wait to apply for next fall at the earliest he realized, but that was fine it was good to bolster his grades and make the money.

One week into the job he had found out from one of the servers that their brother was looking for a roommate and JD took it, desperate, just wanting to get out of the overpriced and sleazy motel. On the positive it was only about a thirty minute walk— and 3 subway stops— away from Veronica’s dorm but otherwise it wasn’t… ideal. He lived in what he assumed would be considered a living room, whilst Tim— his roommate, who had the room with a door— had to walk through JD’s space to get to it when he got in. But it was cheap enough. Roommate life wasn’t fun as JD discovered quite quickly and he could really only have Veronica over when Tim was working— luckily they at least had opposite schedules— otherwise he got a lot of passive aggressive glaring about her being over even when it wasn’t to have sex or spend the night. Even though Tim's boyfriend was over all the time too. And if he wasn’t over Tim liked to tie up their phone line. He also liked leaving his complaints in note form. JD would have rather he just said something to his face rather than leave a passive aggressive note but that was how it was. Roommate life. To be fair, for every complaint he had on his roommate, he was sure Tim had a list of a thousand of his own about JD. 

He was also sadly learning the joys of parking his car in the city were not fun. He had to move it— often— and learn to decipher signs with the most complicated parking regulations. Veronica had teased him perhaps it was time to think about selling it but he wasn't ready yet.

Months had passed now since they both arrived and he had settled into a routine of sorts. He’d work at the restaurant 32 hours a week— a mind numbingly dreadful minimum wage labor he detested but he ate his lumps and took it because work was work— and had begun his classes at community college. To his surprise he was doing much better in his classes now than he ever did in his high school career. Maybe it wasn’t the constant moving, or the fact that there were minimal interpersonal issues between the students owing to the commuter nature of the school and the vastly different places in life they all were. Most likely the difference was in himself. Instead of just moving along in his classes aimless, he now had goals, wants. Learning was no longer a chore, it would produce an actionable endgame. Getting a good grade in the class meant he was one more step closer to getting somewhere he wanted in life and the more and more he thought about it the more he was convinced the civil engineering program was the right path for him. He was even doing well in his pre-calculous course and chemistry of all things. He fleetingly thought what some of the faculty and administration at Westerberg would think of that but he decided it didn't matter. None of that high school crap mattered anymore. He had a future and he was going to get it.

The best part of studying? Well, sometimes Veronica would come over with her homework on the times they both had the time off and she’d lay her head in his lap and do her readings for her classes as he did his for his own. He thought she enjoyed reading with his fingers tangled in her hair stroking it just as much as he did. They tried very hard to make the studying last for as long as they could before descending into other activities.

Luckily, too, Dr. Beckett had come through for him and arranged a weekly appointment for him to talk with a Dr. Lowenstein who agreed to take him on as pro bono as a favor at least until his financial situation improved or he obtained some insurance.

It was a Saturday in early March that he and Veronica had found themselves one rainy afternoon going through his boxes and photographs, both taking a relaxing break from work and studying to try and organize the remnants of his life. She had wanted to put them into an album for him so they weren’t just scattered in a box. He had never thought of such things but agreed, realizing he didn’t want to damage or lose them. She also just liked looking at them for the sake of it and asking questions when she felt it okay to do so.

“Who’s this?” She asked, when she found one of himself as a toddler with his mom and a younger woman. She had long light brown hair and was wearing a flowy white dress and lots of beads. She held him in her arms and they were all laughing. “She looks like your mom,” Veronica said, examining it. “Is that her sister?” She asked carefully. “I remember you told me you had an aunt,” she asked it lightly, hoping he'd open up. To her relief he did.

“Yeah, my Aunt Phyllis... I think,” he said, taking it trying to remember the woman in question. He flipped it over and looked on the back. Sure enough, in his mom’s careful handwriting it said, _Jason and Phyl: 1974 Visit_. “Yeah, sorry, hard to remember. I haven’t seen her really since…” Since the funeral, which was a sore tooth he wasn’t in the mood to poke.

* * *

 **Texas, 1981  
** **The Funeral**

_Jason was sitting on one of the seats with his book, trying to not hear the hushed whispers or notice the pitying glances._

_A woman in a flowy white dress and love beads-- even though that time had come and passed-- stumbled in the door. Jason glanced up from his book and watched his Aunt Phyllis make her appearance. He remembered his father and mother once arguing about her. His father called her a “fruitcake burnout.” His mother hadn’t liked that description of her baby sister, instead sighing and telling Jason later quite generously her little sister was, “a beautiful disaster.” He remembered when she’d visit and play with him, insisting he call her Aunt Phyll, like her mother called her Phyll._

_He thought she was fun. When she visited she had taken him to a carnival and they rode the roller coaster and ferris wheel and ate cotton candy. He had been seven at the time, it didn’t take a lot to please a seven year old. When he saw her buy a small bag of something from one of the carnival hands she just told him to keep it to himself and he did. She told him it was her “medicine” and his mom didn’t need to know about it._

_He watched as his father noticed her entrance and walked up to her, whispering something in her ear as she swayed a little uneasy on her feet. She just laughed. “So what if I am? You’re burying my sister today. Plus, I can tell you’ve already knocked back a few,” she responded back to him accusingly. He motioned for her to keep her voice down. She laughed mirthlessly, “make a scene? If I can smell it on your breath, so can they.” He glared at her and grabbed her arm._

_“I’m not Val,” she retorted as she extricated his hand from her arm. “You can’t ‘handle’ me like that. Where’s Jason?” She looked around and spotted him sitting in the corner with a book. “You left him alone? Typical.” She walked away from Bud Dean who just shook his head and went back to accepting the condolences from the others that showed up._

_“Hey,” Aunt Phyllis said to him as she sat down. Jason didn’t respond. She just nodded. “Yeah, same.” They sat and stared ahead together. Jason always remembered the fringe at the bottom of her skirt and the way her love beads around her wrist clacked against each other like her own personal wind chimes whenever she moved her hair behind her ear. “You and I both know it wasn’t an accident.” He turned his page but wasn’t really reading. “That building she walked into?” She asked him quietly. “I heard you saw it.” He didn’t respond. She nodded. “I just want to know one thing: did he push the button?” She asked her nine year old nephew point blankly._

_Jason didn’t move the book, he just said in a low tone, “yes.” Aunt Phyllis nodded._

_“Fuck him.”_

_“Fuck him,” he repeated quietly back to her. He wasn’t sure if she heard him, she had a queer look in her eye and she blinked rapidly and checked her purse. She pulled out a tiny box and fumbled for some pills._

* * *

**March, 1991  
Queens**

He remembered she had left five minutes later and he hadn’t seen her since. “She visited a few times when I was little when my mom was alive. I think she was with the Hare Krishnas for a hot minute before some other weird cult or commune or something. Kind of spacey the few times I met her I remember… the sixties and seventies hit her kind of hard I think. Dad didn’t like her, but that’s not a big shocker.” 

He dug around the box and found an old birthday she had sent him when he was seven. Veronica looked at the envelope and at the return address. “Maybe she isn’t that far away. This return address says New York, it’s not far at all really,” she considered. “Just a few stops out of the city in Queens.” He took the envelope from her and considered it. “I’m just offering a suggestion,” she said, diplomatically. She knew he didn’t like to be pushed. “I just think you should reach out. Even if it isn’t still her address they might know where she went. Can’t hurt? A lot of people change over the years.” JD got cagey and shrugged. 

“I don’t know, I’m not sure it’s really important to reach out to my mom’s family. They never reached out to me.” Veronica took her forefinger and thumb and touched his chin, bringing it back to look into her pretty eyes. 

“You guys moved around so much, maybe she couldn’t find you to reach you.” JD sighed, it was probably the case. “You can try.” He shrugged. “What’s the worst that can happen? You go, you say hello, if she turns out to be a flake you don’t talk to her again.” He leaned over and kissed her. It wasn't the worst idea he had ever heard.

“Stop being sensible and right a lot of the time.”

So there he was that next Saturday in March. There was a chill in the air still but he could feel spring coming. He was just glad his normal trench coat was warm enough for it. Veronica had teased him that maybe it was time for him to start looking for a new coat, but he wasn’t ready at 19 to give it up just yet. 

He scanned the listings on the four unit house in front of him and his heart rate sped up. There it was: _Morgenstern, P._ It had to be her. He pushed the button and heard the loud buzz. After pushing it he took his hands and blew warm air on them as the wind chill hit him. It was almost a minute that had gone by without an answer. He was about to walk away and debate trying another day when he heard a voice cry out from the window. “Well, you’re too shabbily dressed to be a Jehovah and I doubt at your age you’ve resorted to selling bibles door to door. God, do they even still do that?" JD didn't know how to respond. "Look, kid. Is there something I can help you with? The intercom to speak out is broken.” He looked up and nearly died. She had about ten years on her face— and they weren't the most kind ten years— but it was her: Aunt Phyllis, with the same face and hair as his own mother, only aged about twenty years more than his mother ever got to see. “If it’s ding dong dash you’re playing, then you forgot the dash part.”

“Um. Yeah. I’m sorry to bother you. Are you Phyllis? Morgenstern?”

“Depends on whether you’re a cop. You a cop? If I ask you gotta tell me if you are,” she told him seriously through slanted eyes. JD was taken aback, nothing about him he felt read as “cop.”

“Um, no, I don't think that's true though and-”

“It’s a joke kid. Yeah, I’m Phyllis Morgenstern."

"Um, sorry. I would have called but I just found an address on an old bit of mail, no number. A birthday card you sent me when I was seven actually.” He held up the child’s birthday card with Snoopy on the front wishing him a ‘happy birthday.’ The woman’s joking manner changed as she looked down at the tall young man with black tufts of hair sticking out of his winter hat in a trench coat and boots rubbing his hands together clad in fingerless gloves.

“I’m sorry. Do I-?”

“Um, my name’s Jason. Dean? Valerie’s son,” he clarified just in case. “You’re, um, her sister, right?”

“Oh fuck,” she breathed, going pale. She hesitated before croaking out, “um, it’s chilly out there. I’ll, um, let me get the door.” She quickly closed the window and a moment later she opened the main door and beckoned him in. He accepted, more because of the warmth than anything else. She walked him upstairs to one of the apartment units on the top. She opened her door and he walked into utter chaos and clutter of an apartment she must have been living in for the last decade or more. There were plants everywhere and pictures all over the shelves and on the walls. They walked into her small kitchen and she beckoned him to sit at the table. “Can I, well, can I offer you some tea?” She asked unsure what else to say to a nephew she hadn’t seen in more than ten years. “I just have the herbal stuff.” JD nodded, not really liking tea but knowing it would give them something to do. Uneasy about just sitting he got up and out of sheer curiosity peered at the photographs.

“Sure, it’s fine” he said. She took her kettle and filled it with water from the sink. She had many eastern religious symbols around her room and he smiled at the Buddha kitty she had on one shelf and gently touched it for good luck.

His aunt began the conversation awkwardly. “So, you’re eighteen now, right?”

“Nineteen, actually,” he responded and she winced both at not remembering how old he was and the realization that she hadn’t seen him in ten years. JD continued his inspection of her home. There was an older picture of a young teenager and a young girl on one shelf. He picked it up and examined it recognizing the Unisphere from Flushing Meadows Park.

Phyllis turned her head and saw him looking at it. She smiled a little, taking in her sister’s son who was now grown up. He took off his hat and she noticed his thick black messy hair and tall frame and build. He was handsome, she noticed. But he also looked an awful lot like his father than settled well with her. _That’s not his fault,_ she chided herself. _Nineteen, damn._

* * *

 **March, 1972  
** **Texas**

_"Oh my god! He’s such a sweetheart,” sixteen year old Phyllis cooed, taking the baby from her sister’s arms as she tentatively showed her how to support his head and hold a small infant properly. Phyllis was just sixteen when her big sister gave birth. She had come with her parents to Texas where Val had moved after the quick wedding less than a year ago. The angry words of finding out she was pregnant and unmarried and the speedy wedding had quickly melted away as Val’s mother, father, and sister got a look at the tiny little ball of newness and joy that a baby always brought to a family._

_“He really is darling,” her mother smiled, holding the baby’s foot and kissing it lightly. She sat down with her daughter and picked up the coffee cup in front of her carefully. “Was it a difficult birth? I hate that I wasn’t there with you.” Valerie sighed and gave her mother a quick and non-gory summary. It hadn’t been complicated, but it wasn’t easy. She had been in labor for nearly eight hours. She had been home all by herself— her husband on a demo site— and she had to ask one of her neighbors— she hadn’t even been able to introduce herself properly yet— to drive her since there was no ambulance service to this part of town. She hadn’t been able to even get in touch with her husband until halfway through. He had arrived in time though._

_“I’m sorry, you were awake the whole time?” Ethel Morgenstern asked incredulously. They had knocked her out like most women in her time had._

_“Yes mom, I wanted to do it naturally,” Val tried to defend herself. She had already had to defend her want to breastfeed— “What? Is it the Depression?” Her mother balked— and the cloth diapers. Her mother shook her head a smidgen. She didn’t even remember the births of her own children and couldn’t imagine a world without all the conveniences the post-war world had sold her to raise her babies._

_Val wasn’t in the mood to argue. Honestly, she was exhausted and struggling to stay awake even though she was beyond excited to see her family. Jason was about two weeks old now though and she had no idea how much energy it took to keep an infant alive. The swirl of emotions, hormones, and lack of sleep from the midnight feedings was a lot for her to do pretty much without any support. It wasn’t that her husband didn’t care, he just didn’t know how to help, nor was he raised to think he should help._

_After all, infant care was something women were supposed to just know instinctively how to do, right?_

_The front door swung open and a man in dirty jeans and a white shirt with gloves appeared at the door. It was Saturday and he was off of work. He’d been fixing some things in the backyard with the radio on and hadn’t heard the car with his in-laws pull up. He didn’t even have time to wash his hands before greeting his father-in-law who eyed him with distrust. Valerie smiled, hoping he would be pleased by the surprise visit. “Honey, look who’s here?” She said, putting a smile on her face trying to project the image of family she wanted her mother and father to think she had._

_“Oh, hi,” Bud had said. He took the sight of his mother-in-law in a brown tweed suit jacket and skirt, his father-in-law in his simple tie and jacket, and his teenage sister-in-law in a hippy peasant top and long skirt and instantly felt grubby in his jeans and t-shirt having spent the afternoon working in the backyard._

Great, _he thought._ The in-laws dropped in as a surprise. _He was going to need a beer if he was going to deal with them this weekend. A steady flow of them in fact._

_“They just drove in from the airport,” Val said. Phyllis couldn’t stop staring down at the sweet face of her nephew reacting to the new people around him softly in her arms as she clucked her tongue back at him. Newborns were so much smaller and quieter than you realize they are. She watched his little mouth twitch into a smile and she knew she was in love. “Isn’t it wonderful? They completely surprised me,” she said with a tone that sounded like she needed to convince her husband it was a good thing to have his New York in-laws drop in on them in their new house outside of Galvaston unannounced._

_They were supposed to wait a few more months. He had hoped his fixer upper starter home would be more presentable by than. “They just couldn’t wait any longer to meet Jason.” Bud nodded and awkwardly greeted the in-laws he had barely gotten to know outside of a few brief meetings and their wedding._

_Her father barely tolerated him but kept his mouth shut because he was the father of his grandson, Bud completely understood. Her father hated that he moved her and the incoming baby to Texas, but it couldn’t have been helped in Bud’s opinion. They needed money and it was easier to set up his demolition business down here than back in New York where he knew more people. His crew already had several jobs for the rest of the year lined up— far more than he’d been able to get back east._ _That wasn’t all the man had hated about him. Her father hated that he wasn’t Jewish, that he didn’t go to college— forget the intense training the army corp had been— that he was from Texas— and had no plans to move back to New York, the center of the universe in her family’s old fashion New York view— that he drank too much at the rehearsal wedding dinner, that their first meeting was when the two of them had to break the news to him of the pregnancy and hasty engagement, that-_

_The list was endless. Needless to say, there was a very specific type of man her father had wanted for his daughter and he was not it. Her mother at least attempted to make friends with him for the sake of harmony. Well, most likely to prevent being cut off from her grandchild. Her sister? Well, she was a teenager still. His stint in the army at eighteen had ended his teen years pretty quickly and he could barely remember being one himself to relate to the young girl._

_Val smiled, trying to brighten the mood in the room. The truth was it wasn’t great timing for the visit. After the initial joy and closeness of a newborn wore off, she and Bud had begun arguing on and off. It didn’t help that Val was having mood swings that Bud just didn’t understand since giving birth— aren’t you supposed to be happy with a new baby? Aren’t your motherly instincts supposed to kick in?”— and he got mad when he came home from work the other day to see her crying for no reason with the baby asleep and no dinner on the table and the house a mess._

_She was also noticing that he hadn’t curbed much of his drinking habit from before the baby._

_He refused to understand her perspective. It had been tough on her, moving to a completely different state and giving birth without friends and family near her. She hadn’t had a great time dealing with his mother either who seemed to not feel any restraint in offering up mothering advice. His mother didn’t like her and she knew it too. His mother hated that she was Jewish— though non-practicing— from New York City— “some big city girl, with big city needs”— had attended some college courses, had been a dancer- the list was endless. The woman had thought it was silly to consult the books, to breastfeed, or any number of “modern” baby rearing things she tried. She hated to admit it but seeing her mother, father, and baby sister was like a godsend to her in this emotionally weighty time._

_The honeymoon for Bud and Valerie was over so to speak and real life for the couple with a newborn so quickly after beginning their relationship was starting to take a toll. A part of her and a part of him longed for the summer day they had spent at the Rockaways playing on the beach and making love. Making Jason was certainly easy enough, but that wasn’t real life though. Real life was mortgages and crying babies to feed. Real life turned out to be marriage to a man she barely had time to get to know and taking care of a baby she already adored but terrified her that she was unable to be everything he needed._

_Bud went to the fridge and grabbed a can of beer. He offered one to her father, mother, and sister. Her mother looked at him confused to be offered a beer, his father took one only out of politeness, but upon noticing the surprised look on Phyllis’s face at being offered a beer of her own Mr. Morgenstern said a bit harshly, “she’s only sixteen.” Bud took it back, realizing it was one more mistake for her father to criticize him for. He hadn’t been thinking— at sixteen no one in his family had cared if he had a beer. It had been clear since meeting them that he’d never really fit in with her family. If Bud was being totally honest with himself, the work aside, it was a large reason behind his decision to move them back to Texas. He and Valerie had been so happy in their tiny bubble by themselves when they had begun dating and sleeping together. That day on the beach— the one he was convinced made his son— was one of the best days of his life. He could live to a thousand and always recall the sound of her laughter as she played in the sand and water. He could still feel her warmth from when he grabbed her hand to pull her along behind him into the water. They were happy when they were away from her family, and tense when they were, so it was best to stay as far away from them as possible, right?_

_“Um, Bud, honey,” Val said to him, trying to project normalcy. But calling him ‘honey’ or ‘dear’ still felt so odd to her. She wasn’t sure why calling her husband a term of endearment did. All of it— being a wife and mother— just still felt so foreign to her. “Why don’t you show my dad the work you’ve been doing in the backyard? Fixing the house up? All the plans you have for it?” She offered, hoping to defuse the situation. She had heard her father complain when he arrived at the state of their fixer upper house— “this is the house he has my daughter and grandson living in?”— and she had tried so hard to make this house, this ‘family’ life work. When she was pregnant and he was working she gave it a fresh coat of paint, organized some furniture, made sure the nursery was just right. Now that she was dealing with the newborn she had counted on her husband to pick up the slack on that front. And he had… to a point. He had been fixing the fence today, after all. Granted, she suspected he had been using it as an excuse to drink beer and not care for the infant but-_

_Still, they were married and she had to make that work._

_Valerie didn’t like the tension between her husband and father. She had been uncertain when Bud offered to marry her the day she told him she was pregnant. She felt that the romantic fling between them had been fun but marriage? She hadn’t been so sure. But she had made her decision and she was now determined to live with it and make the best of it. Her, Bud, and baby Jason were a family, for better or for worse. That was the way it was._

_"Sure,” Bud said, trying not to belay his annoyance at alone time with her father. Her father awkwardly followed him, as Bud gulped down the beer._

_Her sister had barely registered most of this, too busy falling in love with her sister’s son to notice the intense drama going on around her. “You okay with him Phyl?” Val asked, realizing her sister was still holding the baby._

_“Huh? Oh yeah. He’s totally cool, Val. Really digging his eyes. And that smattering of black hair! He’s adorable!” Their mother laughed._

_“Careful, I think you may be getting a case of the baby lust and you’re a bit too young to be thinking about babies of your own, right?” Phyllis laughed, but a knot twisted in Val’s side. Her mother hadn’t meant it as a dig at the fact that this was all unplanned and much earlier than Valerie had expected but it came off that way. Her mother finally noticed her daughter’s tight smile and unkempt clothes. Clothing and appearances were important to her mother, and had always been to her daughter as well. Seeing her hair not done was startling. “Are you okay, honey? You look-”_

_“I’m great,” Valerie told her quickly. “Everything’s great down here,” she said a bit too enthusiastically. “I mean, just stressful with the new baby, the house is still a bit, you know, a fixer upper but in a good way, you know? Everything’s great. Home, family, what more could I ask for?” Her mother nodded, not really understanding that in fact, Valerie had wanted more. A lot more. And things were far from perfect._

_“How has he been? How has living down here been?” Her mother asked broaching the topic tentatively. She had been referring to her move to what was practically a foreign country and a marriage to her son-in-law that she barely knew and only tolerated for her daughter and grandson’s sake. To be honest, she hadn’t been entirely sure what her daughter saw in the man. Her mother knew that Val had taken her cousin Benjamin’s death in Vietnam last year very hard— her and her brother’s family had always been so close— and it didn’t take a psych doctorate to realize dating a young man fresh from the army was somehow related. Especially a handsome one too. One could never discount a handsome face in the fancies of young girls, Ethel Morgenstern supposed._

_Valerie Dean though, she thought of her daughter’s new name. Jason Dean. Her daughter and grandson’s names didn’t exactly roll off one’s tongue. Her daughter had assured her it was his father’s name and that she really liked it as well. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter. She was married and they had a child now. If she wanted her daughter and grandson in her and her husband’s life she had to suck up her dislike for the father. She agreed, her daughter needed to make her marriage work._

_“Great,” Valerie said, lying once again. “All of it is great!” She didn’t want her parents to worry. The truth was she hated living in Texas. She hated people making fun of her “New York-ness.” She hated being so far from friends and family and having moved here pregnant and just having given birth she barely had a chance to meet people or make any new friends. She really hated staying at home and not working. She missed dancing. A lot. She loved her son, loved him more than anything but the guilt of feeling that sadness over her old life and not fully loving her new one as a wife and mother weighed hard on her. Her mother stared at her with a look that she knew too well. It was the “I know you’re not fine” face. Valerie sighed. “Fine. I’ll admit, I’ve been feeling a bit down since I gave birth,” she said quietly to her mother as she heard her father mildly criticize Bud for something or other about the house. She inwardly sighed, hoping her husband could keep his temper in check around her father at least for the time they were visiting._

_“Oh, darling,” her mother comforted her, suddenly understanding. She was glad that was all there was to it. “That’s just an old fashioned case of the ‘baby blues,’” her mother told her dismissively. “Every woman gets them. You’ll get over it in no time, trust me.” Valerie just nodded and accepted her mother’s words. Of course the mood swings and depression would pass. How could anyone be sad too long when a new baby was in the house?_

* * *

**March, 1991  
Queens**

Phyllis watched Jason’s lips quirk into a small smile and her heart melted-- there was his mother in him. “Oh, yes. That’s me and her when we were little at the World’s Fair in Flushing,” she said referring to the photo he was holding. “She was fourteen, I was just 8. I made her take me on ‘It’s a Small World After All’ so many times I think she almost killed me,” she laughed at the good memory. JD put it down and examined another one. It was a family portrait of a middle aged couple and their two kids— a teenager and a pre-teen girl.

“Are those my grandparents?” He asked, curious, but trying not to sound too curious to keep his emotions in check. In truth he had no real memory of them. They died in a car crash when he was three and he didn’t find any pictures amongst the ones of his mother he had saved. He never really wondered much about them when he was younger— his father never brought them up but he never brought anything about her or her family— but now he was suddenly desperate for knowledge of family. Being around Veronica and her family suddenly made him realize the stability and warmth that could come from family— not just the coldness, anger, and fear his father generated.

“Yep. Ethel and Ira Morgenstern in all their glory,” she told him, realizing he wouldn’t remember them. She had just been nineteen and in her second year of college when they died. She swallowed, that was when she began “exploring” everything in earnest— spirituality in the beginning, but later that had only become a pretense for drugs.

* * *

**May, 1976  
Texas**

_One year after her parents funeral Phyllis had dropped out of college. She was scared, and desperate for spiritual answers her Rabbi never quite satisfied her with. The world around her had changed so drastically. She had a little money that was left to her from her parents and their house in Queens was owned outright. She had her aunt and uncle living in it to take care of it and rent the other three units out, so she didn’t have to worry too much about that. It would be there waiting for her when she had properly found herself. She tried all sorts of things for answers. She attended a lot of meetings and groups hoping she would find enlightenment. She hadn’t. She did discover hallucinogens though. She liked those. Marijuana, ‘shrooms, acid, LSD— all of it helped to expand her mind. Or made her forget the pain, either way she knew that was the key to finding herself and what she should do now._

_She still was looking for more. A way to drastically change her life._

_Some friends had told her recently about a commune being started in New Mexico. She decided to head out and try. She had hitchhiked all the way to Texas before realizing she needed to make a pit stop. She hadn’t seen her sister or nephew since the funeral— almost a full year. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew her sister had worried immensely about her but that husband of hers had stopped her from inviting her to move in with them. He had also stopped her sister from visiting often. Phyllis didn’t know a lot about her sister’s marriage at that point, but she didn’t understand his need to keep the two of them apart and to keep her separate from the one person of her childhood family she had left._

_In the end Phyllis had showed up on her sister’s doorstep unannounced, tired, and hungry. She had shared a bowl with a trucker that had dropped her off a couple of hours ago and she had the munchies fierce._

_When Val opened the door they blinked at each other, barely recognizing each sister. Val was in her lovely outfit with her hair done— pearls around her neck even— and Phyllis in dirty sandals, white skirt, peasant top, and more beads around her wrist than anyone she knew and reeking of marijuana. Val’s eyes had a sadness— too many years without a really close family— and Phyl’s eyes the inability to focus— too many years of recreational drugs. It didn’t matter though. Valerie pulled her into the door and hugged her tightly. She had been desperate for worry since she found out she dropped out of school and she hadn’t been able to get her on the phone. She’d spoken to her aunt and uncle and all they knew is that she had left the house in their care and left town._ Thank god she made it here, _Val thought._

_As they hugged, right behind her teetered her four year old son. He nervously hid behind his mother, unsure who the lady at the door was. “Oh my god, Jason? How big you are!” They laughed and the sisters went inside._

_“Come on, baby,” Val said, picking the boy up. He shyly hid his face against his mother’s shoulder as they laughed. “It’s Aunt Phyll. You remember your Aunt Phyll.” Eventually he lost his shyness and the three of them found themselves on the floor with his Lego blocks playing amiably as if no time had passed between the three of them. Val smiled, genuinely smiled at the sight of her baby sister, son, and herself together and happy._

_“What’s going on here?” Bud asked, coming in the door an hour later. Val swallowed and hoped he hadn’t stopped at the bar first for a drink. He walked over to the fridge and pulled one out though. The pop of the can made her wince. Phyllis noticed, and a sudden worry started to fill her. She hadn’t really checked in with her sister, she realized. She’d been too wrapped up in her own pain and spiritual journey to think about her sister and her son living with this man that her family never really took to._

_“It’s Phyllis! Can you believe it?” Valerie said to him, happily. Jason was on the floor still playing with his blocks. His aunt had been helping him stack them in a tall tower._

_Valerie got up and nervously pulled him to the other side of the room to explain._

_“Phyl just needs a place to crash Bud. I promise, she won’t be long,” Val said cautiously to her husband, as if she were worried about his reaction._ Why was this hard? _Phyllis thought._ Your wife’s sister just wants to visit her sister and nephew. _She looked down at Jason who quietly started building another tower unfazed by the harsh words and tonal shift._

_“Look, Valerie,” he snapped, grabbing her arm tightly, “it’s been a rough-” He stopped. Phyllis had been looking at him with sharp eyes. She hadn’t liked that interaction. Not one bit. And she didn’t like how normal her sister— and Jason— had made it look. He started stalking away to the bedroom. Nervously Valerie followed him. Phyllis looked back to Jason who smiled at her. That smile of his, he always had the sweetest smile, ever since he was a newborn._

_“Hey little guy,” she said to him as she helped organize the blocks. “Tell me. Does your dad talk like that to mommy a lot?” She asked, tentatively. He didn’t respond. “Jason?”_

_Jason continued with his blocks, and mildly shrugged. “Dad gets mad,” he told her quietly. “Sometimes he yells. I go to the closet with my bear and wait till the yelling’s over.” Phyllis looked at the child, horrified. She and her family had no idea that this had been happening. Valerie always sent the happy pictures and just the fun stories in letters and phone calls. The few times she flew back with her son she’d been alone. Neither she nor their parents had really seen how Val and her husband got along._

_Valerie came back downstairs wiping her eyes. Phyllis looked at her suspiciously. “It’s fine. Don’t worry. You can stay a week,” she told her. A broad smile graced her sister’s lips. “I think we should go to the beach. You should see the Gulf coast. Phyll, the beach is amazing here. Right Jason, you want to go to the beach with mom and Aunt Phyll?” Her son looked up and nodded feverishly. He liked darting back and forth from the edge of the water and building with the sand._

_“Valerie, are you kidding me right now?” Her little sister admonished still not over the scene she had witnessed. She grabbed her sister’s arm and looked at the red mark on her wrist that Val had been trying to hide. “Does he do that to you often?” Val got evasive and began picking up the toys. Phyllis folded her arms. She now understood and remembered their parents constantly worrying about Val down here without her family, but they had no idea before they passed it was like that. “Does he do that to Jason too?” She asked harshly. “He just told me he hides with his bear when his father yells.” Val gently brushed the black hair of her son back affectionately not wanting to meet her sister’s eye._

_“Jason’s a sensitive kid. He doesn’t like any loud noises. Come on Phyl, you don’t know anything about my marriage,” Val said, suddenly worried._

_“I just watched him roughly grab you!” She responded, Val hushed her voice._

_“He’ll hear you!” Phyllis couldn’t believe it._

_“If he’s a great husband and father why would that upset him?”_

_“Look, I don’t want to have this argument,” she told her sister. “He stopped and had a couple of drinks after work, that’s all. It’s only because he’s had a few too many tonight. He’s not always like this.” Phyllis sighed, this was not a situation she had a lot of knowledge in dealing with. She really could use a hit to take the edge off all of this stress._

_“Where are you going after you leave here?” Val asked her sister quietly, leaning over to put a red Lego on her son’s tower. He turned to her and smiled, liking the color scheme._

_“A commune in New Mexico,” Phyll responded._

_“A commune?” Her sister asked, surprised as well as alarmed. Her sister needed to go back to school, not traipse around like a hobo._

_“Yeah, it’ll be just the ticket to really find myself, I know it.”_

_“What about school?” Val tentatively asked. “You only have a few more semesters at Queens College to do.”_

_“Come on,” Phyll told her. “College isn’t going to give me the answers I need.”_

_“But-” her sister stopped. “I don’t want to fight. We never see each other anymore.” Phyll stopped with the blocks._

_“Pack a bag. Come with,” she said excitedly. “We’ll tear out to New Mexico together.”_

_“A commune? You want me to join you on a commune?” She balked._

_“Oh, it’ll be just the ticket Val.”_

_“So I’m supposed to leave my son and husband and go live in some hippy commune in the desert?” She shook her head incredulously. “Jesus Phyll, I knew you were on a kick but this-”_

_“Bring Jason. There’s other kids at these things. They all run around together free from all the nonsense the world shoves down their throats. He’ll have all the mom’s looking after him. Yeah, we can take him with us and just leave,” she said quietly. “Just leave your husband,” she muttered. God, she could really use a pick-me-up. She was starting to shake. She had just the pills in her purse for that._

_“That’s- You think I should take my son away from his father? Jesus, Phyll you’ve been here for all of two minutes! He loves us,” she told her, desperate to make her sister— and herself— understand. “It’s hard for him to- Or if he gets mad it’s not because he doesn’t-” She stopped, and composed herself. “Look, let’s not get into it. You must be starving. Let’s just concentrate on enjoying this time together. We never see each other.” Phyll dropped it after that. They spent the week together, they went to the beach, she’d sneak off and take her drugs, worrying her own sister just as much as Phyll worried about Val. Phyllis was in no state to really help Val leave her toxic marriage with her small son in tow. Phyll was already in the throws of her own abusive relationship with drugs._

* * *

**March, 1991  
** **Queens**

“I miss them, my par- your grandparents. They were old fashioned, but stable, you know?” He didn’t, but nodded anyway. “And they adored you. Their only grandchild. They hated how far away you and your mother were. Sugar?” She asked, drawing JD’s attention away from the photos. She was pouring hot water into two mugs with tea bags in them. “Would you like sugar in your tea Jason?”

He turned to her and quickly corrected her. “JD actually. I go by JD.”

“Oh, sorry. JD it is,” she said, remembering she really knew nothing about him. She remembered a baby and a small child she played with. “That’ll be tough for me to remember. I remember you as little Jason. Last time I saw you we went to a carnival, remember?"

“That’s not the last time you saw me,” he corrected her. He told her the memory of the funeral, and what she had said to him.

“I don’t remember that,” Phyll told him quite seriously. “I was in a terrible state after Val— your mom— died. I remember going to Texas, but- God, I’m so sorry.” JD shrugged, he didn't need to dwell on it, not right now. There was something he knew he had to ask, something that had really motivated his coming to meet her.

“Why didn’t you come get me?”

“What?” She asked, shocked. He hadn’t meant to spill it out so quickly, but he couldn’t help it. Seeing her cozy life at her home with all the knick knacks and warm family photos only contrasted what a cold and impermanent life with his father he had really had.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean- I just-” _Fuck it, just say it. Who cares if it puts her off?_ “If you loved your sister so much why did you leave her son with the man that helped facilitate her own suicide?” She looked like he stabbed her in the gut and JD instantly felt like an asshole. “I’m sor-” 

“No, don't. I'm sorry." She put the kettle down and sat at her table. "Oh my God Jas- JD,” she corrected herself, “I- I couldn’t have- I couldn’t have taken on a nine year old back then. I was a fucking mess ten years ago. Do you think any judge in the world would have granted me custody of you? Even over your father?” She sighed. “Name a drug and I tried it. Smoked pot and dropped acid and ‘shrooms like air. The ‘ludes though. Those were my tickets to easy town back in the early 80s. Oh boy, then I met coke and it was like I met the love of my life. Whew- the party didn’t stop.” She sighed. “It stopped being about expanding my mind and finding my spiritual path and more about losing myself to them. Honestly, I’ve only really been clean about three years now.” He nodded. It made sense. The woozy look in her eye when she visited, the unsteadiness on her feet, the mood swings. “By that point, I had no idea where to reach you. I called your father’s mother once looking but she really just made no sense. I don’t think she understood who I was let alone who you or your father were.”

“Granny had dementia in the end,” he recalled his grandmother quite vividly. “I’m not surprised she didn’t give you a straight answer.” He was sixteen when she died. About once a year they made a pilgrimage down to her house and stayed for a week. She refused to call him JD and only called him Jason. It took him a minute to realize she meant Jason his grandfather and not himself when she wondered when he got back from Europe and the army. Even still he wished sometimes he could have just been left there with her instead of trailing his father all over but for some reason his dad never thought to do that. It had started to niggle at him— and in his therapy sessions— why his father never pawned him off on his grandmother. Her dementia only manifested in his teens. His therapist recently supposed it was some form of attachment of his father’s: too afraid to parent, too afraid to be alone and lose him. 

“He couldn’t sit still for very long. We moved from job to job every couple of months,” he explained. She nodded.

“Did he hurt you too?" She asked, tentatively. JD shrugged, not wanting to get into it.

"Sometimes," he admitted. "If he had too much. I think he drank even more after she died than before. But mostly he just ignored me though." He sat at the table with her. "It was lonely with him, more than anything else." She reached out and took his hand _—_ to JD's shock _—_ and squeezed it. In a strange way he welcomed it. 

"Shit, I should have tried harder to find you,” she said. “If you don’t think you and your mother aren’t the biggest regrets I have in life you’re mistaken,” she told him truthfully. “I am sorry I wasn’t together enough to march into that house and take you away from him after she died. If not for my sister’s sake than mine and yours.” She closed her eyes and evaluated him. “Where are you living? Are you eating? Do you need somewhere to crash? Is that-?” He shook his head.

“I moved to town with my girlfriend. Well, sort of. She started school at NYU last fall. I got a cheap room downtown. Kind of rundown but, you know, it’s in the city. I’m bussing tables at that new Planet Hollywood in Times Square.”

She half-remembered his mother saying a similar thing to her when she showed her the run down lower east side apartment she had moved into with one of the girls from her dance studio when she moved out to audition at eighteen… and waiting tables at a diner. She had been in such awe of her big sister’s big life and dreams. “Wait, you’re not going to school?” She furrowed her eyebrow.

“Oh, um, not yet. I will. I'm taking a couple of classes right now at BMCC. I wasn’t really the best at high school,” he admitted almost regretfully, as if he were admitting that to a caring guardian. Maybe it was how similar she looked to his mother _— she's not your mother—_ or the way she offered him tea and seemed to pay attention to his life. “We moved so much it was hard for me to focus on classes.” She nodded, wishing even more she could have given him a stable life here in the city with her and not traipsing all over with an abusive and negligent father. “After that I’m going to try to transfer into City’s civil engineering program.” She smiled. 

“You want to build bridges?” She asked, looking at the boy— man? God, where did the time go?— and remembered how much his father liked destroying things like buildings and his wife. She was just happy he didn’t completely destroy his son.

“Yeah. Maybe trains or highways. Not sure yet. But yeah, that is if I get in.” She nodded and looked at her watch. It was still early.

“Have you eaten? Why don't you stay for dinner?” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which JD listens to a Paul Simon cover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I know the prom night sequel was next on the docket, but this was done and I really hate not having at least a weekly update now that I'm plowing through a bit more.
> 
> Also, remember that College Years thing I posted... I kind of went on a random bender and got out 20 pages of a chapter one. It may be awful, but hey-- it's written.
> 
> Anyway, without further delay here's the conclusion of Homeward Bound, which the title has many implications/meanings as you will see.
> 
> Song credits:  
> Homeward Bound -- Paul Simon (Watch him perform it with George Harrison on SNL! (https://bit.ly/371olPr)  
> I've Got You Babe -- Sonny Bono

**_Every day's an endless stream  
Of cigarettes and magazines.  
And each town looks the same to me,  
the movies and the factories  
And every stranger's face I see  
reminds me that I long to be,  
Homeward bound_ **

**-Paul Simon (Homeward Bound)**

* * *

“Dinner would be nice,” he told her. She put on her shoes and grabbed her coat and purse and they walked a small bit down the street. She pulled him into a small Mediterranean café a few blocks down. The waiter recognized her and greeted her fondly, to JD’s surprise. She even introduced him to the man as “her nephew” which had JD feeling odd at the idea of being introduced as someone’s family, but not entirely in a bad way.

The waiter greeted him with surprise and warmth. “I come here often, they know me here. Oh, and don't do that thing I know you must be doing."

"What thing?" He asked.

"That thing where you scan the menu for the cheapest thing for the most food." It was what he was doing. "Order whatever you like,” she told him. “It’s on me.”

“Thanks,” he told her, having trouble making out what he’d like at the restaurant otherwise. He’d never eaten Mediterranean food before.

“Not a lot of ethnic food options where you’d been living before New York?” She asked, amused by his confusion of the menu.

“Um, well, we were all over. Boston, Kansas, California a couple of times.”

“Never New York, huh?” She asked lightly. He looked at her and realized. She was right, he never liked to linger anywhere around New York. He now wondered if it was to avoid him wandering off to find his mom’s family.

“Not really. Well, not long enough for me to think to look for you if that’s what you mean.” She took her water, sipped it, and stared into it, swirling the ice around.

“He didn’t like me, I know. The few times I visited… He knew I wanted her to leave him and take you away. He resented me for that, more so than for any of my other failings.” Phyll shrugged. JD remembered the few times she was brought up with her dad.

_Burnout. Fruitcake._

The gears in his head were clicking: his dad was tearing her down in front of his mother so that when Phyll voiced concern to leave she wouldn’t listen. Not for the first time did he curse the man, nor the last. “I don’t want to focus on that though. I’m glad you’re here now.” She reached over and touched his hand, squeezing his fingers. It was a strange and familiar touch, one he would normally have not appreciated from someone he barely knew, but somehow with her he did. “It’s nice to have some family around.” He almost said it but couldn’t quite: _same._ Instead he stared down at the food he wasn’t familiar with.

She let go and took some of her pita and dipped it in the hummus she had ordered for them both to share. She noticed he hadn’t touched it. “It’s good, try it. It’s creamy and garlicky.” Tentatively he took the bread and scooped up the dip in front of him. She was right, it was good. “I don’t eat meat but if you do you’ll probably like the lamb kebabs with salad. Comes with a nice yogurt sauce. It’s good, trust me.” He took her suggestion and she ordered her falafel. They were served not long after.

After taking a few hungry bites she started her line of tentative questions. “You said you moved here with a girlfriend?” The restaurant was nice, not many tables but they felt secluded to a point. He liked it, he’d have to remember to bring Veronica here. Since moving to New York she’d wanted to try as many different foods as she could, owing to Sherwood’s decided lack of metropolitan flavor. She was currently obsessed with Cuban food, having never seen or heard of it in Ohio.

And his aunt was right, the lamb was good, really good. 

“Um yeah,” he told her, wiping his mouth with the napkin. “Her name’s Veronica. I met her in my last year of high school in Ohio of all places.”

“Ohio?” She asked, as if it was a foreign country. She had never had the pleasure of visiting in all her life and never had the reason to do so. To her that was a mythical place that only existed in WKRP and Family Ties reruns.

“Yeah, I wound up in Sherwood, Ohio of all places when I finally left my dad.”

“Left…? Wait, before you were 18?” Her heart wrenched. It must have been a fight. “He kicked you out?” 

“It’s a long story,” he told her, truthfully. 

“Does it look like I’m going anywhere? Tell me.”

“There was a bad fight in the end. It had never really been… great between us. Not exactly a lot of Mike Brady or Tom Corbett moments. Hell, I would’ve settled for a Herman Munster. Anyway, things finally came to a head. I let loose on him. Said a lot of things that had gone unsaid over the years. Told him he killed my mother.” Phyll’s eyes widened.

“How’d he take that accusation from you?” She asked. She didn't disagree with it, but still surprised at the boy's tenacity to say it.

“He hit me.” JD chuckled. She was shocked. “And I hit him back." She was more shocked. "I told him I was gone, and he told me not to come back.” He wasn’t sure if he should tell her about the second part. The part where he had a gun pointed at his father’s head for touching Veronica. The scariest moment of his life. He decided to wait on that one. They were in a restaurant in public after all.

Phyll nodded. “It was probably for the best. That you got out. What he did to your mother was-”

“Unforgivable,” he finished. She pushed her food around a bit as he resumed eating.

“I wish she had left him,” she told him. “I wish I was strong enough to be a better person to help her leave him. I wish- I wish a lot of things.” She wished her parents hadn’t died too early, that she hadn’t had the need to drift and had made sure to help her sister. But wishing didn’t do a whole lot of good to herself now, or the young man in front of her.

“I wish that too,” he told her quietly. Reaching his own hand out to touch her's now. She accepted the connection. 

“If it means anything I’m glad he wasn’t able to do to you what he did to her.” He shrugged.

“I got some help. Started talking to someone. Meeting someone like Veronica really helped. She was the one that told me I should find someone to talk to. Gave me a reason to not to sink further down into my coldness or worse- my anger. She doesn’t like me saying ‘she fixed me’ but, she made me want to get better and be better.” He looked at Phyll who had a peculiar look in her eye. It made him uncomfortable. It was always hard to properly explain his and Veronica's connection to outsiders. He hated anyone dismissing them as some “high school romance.” He looked back down at his food, taking another bite. “She’s- she’s really special.” Phyll smiled. He was in love.

“She must be. I can’t wait to meet her. I mean, if you’d like that.” He considered it, carefully. He’d enjoyed this meeting and he was well aware Veronica would leap at the chance to meet his family.

“I’d like that. I know she would. She was the one who convinced me to look you up.”

“Good. I like her already then.” The two sat and finished their meal. Phyll paid the bill. JD made an attempt to at least get the tip but she refused to let him.

“How often do I get to have dinner with my nephew?” She told him, pushing his money back. “Please, it was a pleasure to talk with you. I hope we can do it again?” She asked tentatively. 

“I would like that.” She felt relief wash through her. She had no idea that day when she woke up that he’d find his way to her doorway but she had always believed in cosmic forces, fate, and the universe. She believed in a higher purpose and call, even if chasing after the “why” of it had led her down a fruitless and destructive path in her youth. Whatever twists and turns had brought this young man to her doorstep were all right with her. She wondered what her sister would think of this turn of events, and rather hoped wherever she was she was glad to see the two of them coming together. 

“Walk with me back to my apartment,” she asked as they got their coats. “It’s a rough neighborhood,” she joked. “I could use the protection.” He laughed even though he wasn’t sure how much she was kidding. 

He walked with her back to the doorway and she put her key in and turned to him. “Come downstairs with me. I have some things of hers. Your mother’s I mean. Mom and dad never tossed much, I can tell you. Some of their things even. If you would like-”

“I’d love to,” he told her.

“Follow me.” They made their way down to the storage unit in the basement. 

“I keep meaning to really go through it all,” she told him, turning on the lamp with a pull string. “Sell it, give it away… I don’t know.” He stared at the boxes and old furniture and remnants of his grandparents' life and his mother’s from before he was born. “Maybe, um, maybe you’d like to give me a hand..?” She asked, partly from the need of a strong young back to help but mostly to ensure his return and to let him decide what he’d like to keep. “I’d compensate you. Of course. And you can keep whatever you like.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he said without thinking. “I’ve got a job bussing tables at this awful restaurant in Times Square, but, you know, I could always use more work. How’s next Tuesday?” Relief washed through her, glad he was definitely coming back beyond a vague “sometime later” promise. 

“Sounds perfect,” she assured him, trying not to get too emotional about the chance to clean out a basement. He wasn’t listening at the moment because something caught his eye. He tentatively walked over to a box in the back labeled “Valerie’s.” There was a small heart instead of the dot over the “i.”

He swallowed and closed his eyes before opening it up, coughing a bit at the dust bunnies. Inside was a treasure trove of her things. A portable record player with a paisley flower painted on it, a few records. He laughed, finding an old “Teen World” magazine with The Beatles on the cover. He realized in all his years he never imagined his mother as a teenager. Suddenly he was desperate with curiosity. 

“She loved John Lennon,” Phyllis told him, seeing him look at it. “I liked George the best. We would fight over that,” she laughed, reminiscing. He found a jewelry box that held cheap plastic jewelry, some old stickers, and had a petite ballerina that at one point spun and played music when it was opened. Along with it a stuffed bear… and an old pair of ballet slippers. He had never been able to picture his mom as a little girl, not having any memorabilia from that part of her life before, and suddenly now he could. She was sixteen years old in 1965 and looking through this box he could see the teenage girl who consumed music and dancing, and dreamed of more. 

Phyll saw him staring at the shoes. “Do you remember her dancing at all?” She asked, hopeful. She'd hate it if he didn't remember that part of her sister's life.

“Yes,” he told her quietly, remembering himself as a young boy watching her dance and laugh with him. “She would put records on and show me when she was having a good day. She was really good. She’d, um, try and teach me.”

“Yeah. She… had talent,” Phyll told him wistfully. JD rooted around some more and found a stack of pictures. He sat down on the cold basement floor and carefully looked down at them. 

There she was, younger than he’d ever remembered her. They were of her life as he’d never seen or known before. She was a teenager in most of them. Many of them with other girls, a lot of them in what looked to be a dance studio. He could find her in a lot of them though. She stood out. Emotion swirled around him, unsure of all the information he was receiving. A dull ache took up in his stomach. Not for the first time he wished he had known her longer. He was broken from the revelry by the sound of a projector being set up. “I should really pay to get these converted to tape,” she said as she loaded up a reel. Quickly JD wiped his face clean and got up. She had set up two outdoor folding chairs and put the projector so it would face the back wall. She carefully looped the film through the second reel and clacked the mechanics down. 

A moment went by and after the countdown and leader roll, images of a park came into view. In that magical and otherworldly way super 8 home movies always look he watched as his mother in a cream colored wool coat and hat smiled broadly and waved at the camera. A younger girl— his aunt he realized— leapt into frame and the two hugged as they waved. It was surreal and different from the regular pictures. In the video footage she was moving and more so than the photographs she looked real, _alive._ She was laughing and goofing off to the camera, twirling expertly before lifting her arms up and on the points of her feet before lifting her leg impossibly high, showing off before landing down and swatting her hand, embarrassed to show off.

He startled as he felt the warm hand— his aunt’s— rest on his shoulder. He hadn’t realized he’d need an anchor back to reality but her touch and comfort had momentarily provided it. As the footage changed to another place there were many teens, including his mom and much younger aunt, waving at the camera. Spliced in next was footage from what looked to be a dance studio. Her hair was slicked up and tied tightly back and she was in warm up clothes as she stretched her leg out on a barre. His aunt brought over an old tape to tape recorder and loaded up the spool. “She could sing too, not as well as she danced. But she could play the guitar and sing,” she reminisced, as she hit play on the tape.

JD stared back and forth from the film to the recorder. _“Come on Val,”_ an unknown voice cajoled from the tape.

 _"Oh, I don't know,"_ a second voice said.

“ _Yeah_ , _come on I got the sound set up, just play into the recorder. It’ll be good for your auditions and stuff. Think of it as your screen test,”_ the voice— his Aunt Phyll he realized— responded to her.

 _“Screen test?”_ The voice laughed back to her. His mom. His mom’s voice. He hadn’t heard it since he was a small boy. _“You do those in Hollywood, and in front of a movie camera, Phyll. Not your dad's dictation machine in the basement. Besides, you have loftier ambitions for me than I do.”_ He heard a guitar strumming and tuning aimlessly. _“I still can’t get an audition to dance off-Broadway or even off-off Broadway. Well, not if I want to keep my clothes on that is,”_ she laughed. 

_“Mom and Dad would die!”_ Phyll responded back, shocked. The guitar started strumming the opening licks to something familiar he couldn't quite place. 

_“Wouldn’t they just?”_ She laughed back. JD couldn’t help it, he chuckled at her teenage rebellion. _“Okay, we can record something. Um… here, one my faves,”_ she said before she started singing. _“‘I'm sittin' in the railway station, got a ticket to my destination, on a tour of one-night stands, my suitcase and guitar in hand and every stop is neatly planned for a poet and a one-man band…”_ JD’s heart stopped. It was Paul Simon’s "Homeward Bound." She used to sing it to him as he fell asleep. JD glanced at the pile of things off to the side and spotted it. An old guitar that hadn't been used in a long time. _That guitar was my mother’s,_ he realized. _“...Home where my thought's escapin’. Home where my music's playin'. Home where my love lies waitin' silently for me. Silently for me,”_ she concluded. When it was done the warmth nearly flooded him. He never thought he’d hear her sing it again. And now he had a recording of it to listen to whenever he wanted to. The tape continued. 

_“Here, one more song. How about a duet? You and me?”_ She asked her sister _. “Come on, a fun one.”_ The guitar started on a familiar enough lick. " _They say we're young and we don't know. We won't find out until we're grown…”_

 _“Well I don't know if all that's true, 'cause you got me, and baby I got you…’”_ Phyll started giggling but his mom pushed her on.

 _“Babe. I got you babe..”_ They continued to sing. They were in full peels of laughter as they finished the song.

 _“Girls! What did your dad tell you about messing around with his dictation machine?!”_ A faint voice called from the background. _Grandma’s?_ He thought, though the idea of a grandparent was still so foreign to him.

 _“Oh f-”_ The tape cut out. Up on the screen he saw the last of the film reel cut out and he blinked as his aunt hit the light back on. He took the minute to pull himself together. They put the boxes back in silence. It had been a lot to see. He’d always had pictures of her, but hearing her voice and watching her move… that had been more like her than he’d ever physically had since she died. 

“Can I have that?” He asked quietly. “I’ll see about getting them transferred,” he promised. His aunt nodded, understanding. He got up. “Um, wow. I should head home, it’s getting late. Don’t worry, I’ll be back next week to help you with this stuff.” She nodded.

“You have tokens for the train, right?” She asked in what struck him as almost a mothering way. She hadn’t meant it, it just popped out that way. He nodded.

“Yeah, I’m good.” 

“Jason- JD,” she corrected. “I know you said you have a place to crash at and I know it’s more exciting in the city but… You have a home here, if you want it.”

“Oh I couldn’t impose on you,” he told her quickly.

“It wouldn’t be an imposition,” she told him. “You know, the unit next to me is vacant,” she told him lightly. “I’ve been meaning to fix it up, paint it, all that to rent it out. And I don’t know what you’re paying but I can guarantee it’s overpriced for what you’re getting.” JD looked up at her stunned. 

“That’s- I mean- You don’t have to-”

“Yes, I do,” she told him honestly. Phyll thought back to all the years she didn’t check in on the boy, how much she owed it to her sister. And it was their home really. The one she and his mother had been raised in, therefore just as much his as hers. 

“No, um, I didn’t come here to make you guilty,” he told her, starting to feel guilt himself. “Or to ask anything of you, really. The tape and the film reels, that had- that’s more than what I could have asked for.”

“JD, please. This house is as much yours as it is mine in spirit if not on paper. Your grandparents left it to both me and your mom when they died. Your mom worried about me so much she made sure before she died that the whole house was completely in my name though.” JD sighed, realizing now just how prepared she really was before she took her life. The bank account, the letters… and now the house for her sister. All of it was done from her point of view of making her loved one’s lives easier. Once again he wished he’d been older, realized more what was going on. If he had he would have made sure she knew that her living was what was best for them all.

But there was no point dwelling on that. The past couldn’t be changed. She was gone, but her sister was here. The only family he had left, really.

“Here, let me at least show it to you,” she told him. They got up and she led him upstairs and unlocked a door across the hallway from her own. 

“I rent the two apartments downstairs,” she told him honestly. “That covers the bills mostly. And like I said, this one’s a bit of a mess.” JD walked in and inspected it. “It was my parents- your grandparents I mean. Your mom and I shared that room right there,” she pointed at the smaller room, wistfully. “Honestly, it feels too weird for me to live in by myself, that’s why I took the one bedroom across the hall when I got clean and settled back here after my— our?— aunt and uncle decided to move to Florida.” JD had a strange pit at the idea that he had more family. 

He focused instead on the tangible object of the apartment in front of him. The paint was peeling and there were a lot of little things broken or in need of replacing mostly from neglect. The light units were older and dangling precariously, the curtain rods falling out of the walls, as well as a yellow tinge— most likely due to years of smokers living inside— the kitchen needed to be reworked, and the cabinets didn’t have doors-

He realized he had begun considering it, remembering the cramped one bedroom he was in with a roommate. He remembered how annoyed his roommate would get when Veronica came over, how he had a habit of falling asleep with the radio blasting all hours of the night, and leaving dishes in the sink to grow mold, often throwing them away after a while instead of simply cleaning them meaning JD ended up having to buy replacements. 

JD had rented that basement when he moved out of his dad's house last year and he hated to admit it but he had been spoiled having the privacy back then. Roommate life sucked and he’d been in NYC long enough now to know that what he was being offered was a fantasy— a fixer upper mind you— but a two bedroom apartment all to himself. It wasn’t Manhattan, to be sure, but it wasn’t too deep into Queens to be in the middle of nowhere. Honestly, it was only a quick thirty to forty minute train ride to Veronica’s campus and dorm or his own job. Was it really any further from the City College campus if— when— he got in than his current apartment?

He had realized he was considering it. More than considering it. “If I decide to take it, I can pay you. Mom left me some money and-”

“And I won’t take a dime of it. She’d want you to pay for school with it. And I told you, this home is as much yours as it is mine. Look, do you think you could fix it up yourself? Replace some of the light units, freshen it up? Is that the sort of thing you’re any good at?” He nodded, still assessing it all. 

“I mean, it’s not that bad. Just lots of little things, overall it looks fine. Seriously though I can’t-'' Phyllis was being selfish, she knew. She wanted her nephew to move in next door not just because of her guilt over not seeing to his care earlier, but because the idea of having some family live nearby was awfully appealing. She liked the idea of having someone to fret over and feed. He wasn’t a kid, that time had passed, but he wasn’t so old he couldn’t use a hand or an occasional fussing over. And while he may have looked a lot like his father, he had his mother’s smile and it had been so long since she’d felt Val’s laughter and joy. They weren’t the same person, obviously, but she was a part of him, and at this juncture of her life even the smallest part of her missed sister was better than none. It wasn’t also that she owed it to her sister to see to some of his care, she owed it to herself to bring him back into their family. He'd been apart from them way too long.

JD looked at her, the idea of those things on his end were so foreign, but they held an appeal even if he didn’t expect it from her. 

“When you’re done with any school you want to do,” she added. “Or when you're standing a bit more on your own two feet than we can discuss paying for upkeep or whatnot. But for right now… please. Consider it. It’s the least I can offer you.”

He just didn’t know what to say yet. It was the kind of thing he’d like to have an outside opinion on. An opinion like Veronica’s. It was a bit overwhelming to him at this point. “I’ll have to think about it, is that okay?”

“You’re right. Think about it.” She walked him out and down the stairs.

“Well,” he said, putting on his hat and gloves and closing his coat in the chilly air. “Thank you for dinner and, well-” he thought of the tape of his mother singing and the film of her dancing. He had found so much more than he thought he’d get coming to see her.

“Of course," she told him, understanding. It had been emotionally a lot for both of them. "Please, come over next whenever you’d like. Let me give you my phone number…” Quickly she found a pen in her purse and a bit of old mail. Hastily she scribbled the numbers down and he pocketed the slip of paper.

They stared at each other, unsure if they should hug goodbye or not. She didn’t, knowing he might not be ready. Instead she simply touched his upper arm affectionately and saw him off for the night.

* * *

“So… what do you think?” JD asked, nervously watching Veronica's reaction. He had no idea why he was so nervous. It had been a week since he’d met his aunt for the first time. After getting home that night he had immediately called Veronica and told her everything. The stories, the reasons, dinner— he was right, she did want to eat there— and finally the treasure of mementos of his mother’s life prior to having him. 

She had listened to him patiently, and with concern and compassion only asking occasionally how he felt or to add her insight. She couldn’t have been more pleased at how well it had turned out. She wanted to see the film and audio as soon as he felt okay to do so. He promised her he would, desperate to share it with her. He wished he could have gone over to her or her to him, but she had a class early in the morning and he had the breakfast shift. They were attempting to be responsible in terms of her school and his job. Adults. Responsible adults. He wished they lived together not for the first time.

They made a date to go to a diner not far from either of their places the next night after they had wrapped up their daily tasks to have a cheap meal and talk in person about it all more thoroughly. He always felt better after talking to her. That was when he had told her about the offer his aunt had made to live in the extra apartment. She had been just as surprised as he had been. She agreed to come out and meet his aunt the next week and look at it with him.

The heat was on in the apartment and she peeled her brown scarf off from around her neck, unzipping her coat. It had been the first time she had ventured out to Queens since they both moved to New York and she was quite surprised at how neighborhood-y and nice it was. Some of her more snootier classmates— a few that grew up in the upper 80s— talked about outside of Manhattan as if it were a foreign country that was miles away. But the train ride he’d taken her on hadn’t been that complicated or long from her campus where he picked her up that morning after her class and it even had a lovely view of the skyline from the window. _A nice couch would work right there, and the bigger room for the bed, the smaller room for an office for now…_ She blinked, unsure what she was doing mentally. 

“It’s… big,” she said, shocked. “Like, really big. I mean, she’s offering you a two bedroom unit… for free. And is that a terrace?" She asked, pleasantly shocked. "That's a terrace.” She glanced at the door that led to the outdoor terrace that was big enough for a table and some chairs, maybe a small grill- _stop decorating Veronica._ “That’s- I mean, that’s a big deal,” she told him. She’d been in NY now long enough to realize something like that was almost unheard of, especially at their age and financial standing.

“I guess this whole house had been my grandparents, they left it to both my mother and aunt so in a way it’s… mine now too? I don’t know, maybe she’s also guilty about not getting me from my dad’s. I don’t know. What do you think? Would it be weird to take her help?” Veronica thought hard about that, actually. She had felt bad this last year seeing how much harder it had been for him to get started on his life than her. She had her parents to support her and help when needed not just financially but emotionally too. It had never occurred to her before seeing his struggle this year how much of a privilege two stable parents really were to start one’s adulthood. After all, she moved into a dorm when she got to NY. When he moved here he had been in a motel so sleazy he didn’t even want her to go see him there. 

He had been offered so little in the way of family support in his life she couldn’t fault him for wanting to take his aunt up on this generous offer. His aunt hadn’t been there his childhood, maybe it wasn’t wrong to take the help and the generosity now. Lord knows he could use it. 

It was also a pretty decent place. With a terrace.

“It needs work,” she warned him, running her finger over a counter and seeing just how thick the grime and dust were. Some of it didn’t even look like dirt, like it was caked in and would need more than some Lemon Pledge and elbow grease to clean it thoroughly. The walls had thick chunks of paint peeling off, and several of the lights were without any kind of covering, with the bulbs dangling precariously. It had potential though, she admitted. Good space, and nice old-timey architecture.

And a terrace. Never discount the joys of a terrace.

She turned to him and smiled, recognizing the look on his face as he looked around it. It was his “making a list” face. Whenever there was some kind of project like this he would get that look. “You’re already making plans, figuring out what to do first and how, aren’t you?” He laughed, loving how well she could read him. 

“Yeah, I already got a list going. I mean, I can’t move out of my old place until at least May anyway. I promised Tim when I moved in I’d stay until at least then but in the meantime I can start on the basics here.” She watched him carefully at his face light up. He was excited about it, about making this apartment his. She really did love seeing him excited about a project. 

“It’s your choice,” she told him truthfully, putting her coat on the kitchen counter— good amount of cabinet space she noted even if they did need to be replaced— and smoothing out her black skirt over her blue leggings. “That is,” she realized, chagrined for even thinking about her own input to the place. “I mean, what I think doesn’t-”

“Yes it does,” he told her. “What you think definitely matters.” He paused and tentatively started his little prepared speech. “I know you said you promised your parents we’d wait to move in together and I get that. I’m not trying to drive a wedge between you and them but… by the time I’m done fixing it up…? I mean, eventually this could be our place,” he told her tentatively. She stared back at him, surprised. _It could be. Our place._ The term sent both a happy thrill and trepidation through her. 

“JD… I… I don’t want to get ahead of ourselves,” she told him, with a smile playing on her lips, both in favor of the idea but also scared of it at the same time. “I know you’ve wanted us to find a place together since coming to New York but… it’s not just my parents I’m thinking about. It’s also me. And... I’m not sure I'm ready for us to move in together yet. I don't want to do that until I'm sure, you know?” He nodded, and she was terrified she was hurting his feelings. “And that’s not even remotely because of my feelings towards you which you know-” 

“I know. Veronica, I’ll wait a million years for you to be ready. I promise.” The second he said it she realized it would probably happen one day. She wasn’t ready to start that part of their relationship, but he knew with time she would be.

That being said, she looked around, baring it in mind that one day- 

“I mean, hypothetically yes… one day I _could_ move in here with you,” she said slowly, relieving his nerves and looking around the space critically. He smiled at her, knowing that was a positive sign. “Could! One day! In the future. Don’t let’s get ahead yet.” That was at least a small relief. He was pleased to hear it was something she’d consider eventually. 

Veronica looked now with this in mind. It was big. Bigger than either of them could have reasonably expected in this stage of their lives. And a good location. JD had pointed out the park and the commercial street with the restaurants and bars that honestly didn’t look any less cool or hip than the ones in Manhattan— and he pointed out were all about five dollars cheaper— and the street was reasonably quiet too. It really wasn’t that far from Manhattan either. They could get to classes or work pretty easily from there. He had also excitedly shown off the parking spot that he had already parked his car in no longer a slave to constantly moving it to avoid tickets. 

“I will just say that I think that room right there though, with the windows? Hypothetically, that is- would be the best to make the bedroom. And over here,” she pointed, “we- you, can set up the TV and couch. Maybe put your record player and tape deck in the corner…” She couldn’t help it, she could see the shape of their lives— in the future, yes—start to form. She was already picturing herself living in this apartment with him when they were ready. 

He was thrilled. She wasn’t ready, that was fine, but he knew she would be soon. He walked up behind her and slipped his arms around her and kissed her ear, holding her tightly against him. “I’ll get us a table and chairs for the terrace. When it’s nice we can sit out there and drink coffee,” he whispered to her. She closed her eyes and chuckled to herself, he’d already started imagining it too. His lips lingered down to her neck. “I’ll make you breakfast,” he promised. “Eggs, potatoes... drowning in ketchup just the way you like 'em.” They laughed, remembering their first “breakfast date.” He delighted at the idea of reliving it in the warm mornings in his— and well, soon their— own home. The time he had to wait for her to be ready just gave him the time to make sure the space was perfect for her. “Even still though, when I move in you’ll spend the night once or twice a week, right? Keep a drawer here?” He asked, gently cradling her against him.

“Of course. I’m your girlfriend. I’m entitled to a drawer at your apartment. And it would be nice to spend time at home with you and not have either of our roommates pissy at us.” He laughed and let her go as she continued to investigate the empty and crumbling apartment. 

“So, you think I should take it.” It wasn’t a question. He was beginning to be amenable to the idea. Honestly, she couldn’t think of a reason not to. She was also unbelievably pleased he had hit it off with his aunt.

“I think getting to know her better would be good for you,” she responded, seriously. She walked over to him and began to straighten out the lapel of his coat. It was a habit of hers he never minded. He liked her being this close. “Also, without rent to really worry about you wouldn’t have to work so much when you start school in the fall, you know?” He looked away, worried. “That would be a giant worry off your shoulders.”

He sighed, breaking away from her. He realized it was time to show her. _Do or die_. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled it out. It came in the mail yesterday and it was crumpled and balled up from stuffing it into his large pocket. He wanted to wait until she was around to open it. He blinked down at the envelope. A part of his future plan rested in the contents of that envelope. His plans not just for himself but she was a part of his plans. “It arrived yesterday. I’ve been too petrified to open it.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She looked at it like it carried the weight of his future in it. And in some ways it did.

“I’m telling you now.” He wanted to be something for himself, but also for her. He couldn’t help but feel like this would be the first step towards that. He twirled the envelope back and forth in his hands, scared. He thought of who he was at seventeen, just moving to Ohio with his dad. That guy had no future, just anger and resentment, and the idea of envelopes with college acceptances and the fear of rejection was so foreign to him. This JD. This JD though had a beautiful woman that loved him staring at him hoping as much as he did that it was an acceptance letter into the college program he wanted.

Veronica looked at him, expectantly. “Well, aren’t you going to open it?” Her body hummed, almost as excitedly as she had been when she opened her own college letters. She knew he did it, just knew. He’d worked his ass off this past year and she’d seen the transformation in his school work when he actually applied himself. Besides it was a fat envelope. Everyone knows only acceptance letters come in fat envelopes— it only takes a slip of paper to reject someone and crush their dreams. Fat envelopes had forms to fill out, fliers about financial aid and loans. 

He breathed in and out and tore the envelope open. He swallowed and stared at the letter in his hand:

_Dear Jason Dean,_

_Congratulations! We are pleased to accept you into the City College freshman class this Fall of 1991-_

He felt the air return to his lungs. “I got in,” he told her, quietly, looking up. Her eyes widened and she threw himself into his arms. “I got in!” She squealed as he picked her up and twirled her around. 

“I knew it! I knew it!” She told him as she planted succinct kisses on his eager lips. Finally he lowered her and kissed her properly.

Without warning the door burst open and his aunt was standing at the doorway surprised to find her nephew kissing a girl. “Oh, sorry to interrupt,” she said as the two pulled apart. “You must be the girlfriend."

Veronica looked at the woman carefully and decided to go for a joke. “Nah, just some random girl he picked up. Told me he had access to a two bedroom with a backyard and terrace so I jumped him." A pregnant pause occurred and Veronica changed tone completely. "Yes, sorry. I’m Veronica,” she told her, using humor to mask her desperate curiosity. Phyll snorted. She liked the girl.

“It’s very nice to meet you Veronica,” she told her, taking in the pretty girl with chestnut brown hair hanging off of her nephew. It wasn’t hard to tell from just looking how much he adored her and she adored him. She was glad he’d found someone like that. “I take it, he's showing you the place.” She nodded.

“Sorry, we were just celebrating. He got his acceptance letter.” JD suddenly looked sheepish, surprisingly nervous at the accomplishment to his aunt. "Tell her! It's great news!" She prodded.

"I'm going to City," he said, nervously, holding the letter up. Phyll took the letter out of his hand and read it for herself. Her smile was brilliant.

“Oh that’s so wonderful. I’m just so proud,” she told him handing it back to him. JD warmed to that, she was the first adult relation in recent memory to tell him that. It felt really good to know someone was proud of him. “Then you have to take the apartment. I don’t want you worrying about rent if you have school. I can’t help you out much with the tuition bill, but please let me take that load off. And take the time to make it as nice if you can.”

“Well, if anyone can make this place nice it’s definitely JD,” Veronica assured her. "He's amazing at al that stuff." JD looked embarrassed to have her brag about him. "What?" She responded. "You are. You're really good at it."

"Thanks," he mumbled to her. Phyll watched the interaction carefully. She was good for him, really good for him.

“So.. will you be moving in too?” She asked carefully. Veronica and JD laughed. 

“Oh, no… um, not- not anytime soon,” Veronica told her quickly.

“Ah,” his aunt responded with a laugh. “I see. Well, I made lunch if you two would like to join me,” she offered. Veronica smiled, remembering how often her family had fed JD and eagerly accepted the offer. She grabbed her coat, scarf, and bag to head over with the two and eat dinner and begin to get to know JD’s family for the first time.

“Oh, and Veronica," Phyll told her with a faint smile. "Just so you know, I have baby photos.” Veronica’s eyes widened and JD paled, embarrassed. “All the ones his mother sent to me and my parents.” Veronica really liked her.

“Definitely need to see those,” she agreed, laughing but also beaming at the ability for JD to finally be embarrassed in a sweet way by his relations. 

“Aunt Phyll,” he begged. She laughed and just walked across the hall. JD didn’t mean it, not really. JD was happy to get used to the idea of being embarrassed by relations. It was actually a novel concept for him. She went back across the hall and Veronica was about to follow when JD grabbed her arm lightly and pulled her back to him.

“Just a warning,” he whispered. “She’s vegetarian and there might be sprouts involved.” Veronica blanched.

“Jason Dean I was raised with the utmost of midwestern politeness. I will keep my disdain to myself,” she promised. “And we can bitch about it later. It’s our way.” He laughed as he went across the hall. She was about to follow him, but before she did, Veronica took one last look around the new home JD was making for himself and rather wistfully thought about the day when she’d be able to move in there officially with him. She wasn't ready now, but she would be soon.

* * *

JD ended up putting his heart and soul into that apartment— the entire house really— cleaning, fixing, re-painting and generally making it nice. He cleaned out the basement and kept some of the items of his family for sentimental reasons. He hung his mother’s guitar on a hook in the living room. He even made sure to take care of the things he could in the downstairs apartments for his aunt and anything she needed herself.

His Aunt was impressed. He’d more than earned his keep. They had become close. It was strange how quickly they’d been able to form a relationship. She wasn't his mother, that was true, and in a lot of ways was an incredibly different person but she was family nonetheless. And having a family member that cared about him surprised him. He didn't realize how nice that relationship could be.

It was Veronica though who eventually made it a home though when she finally moved in in the summer after she turned twenty-one, right before she was about to start her final year of college in 1993. Her parents visited not too long after she did and were quite taken with how nice he had fixed up the place. He had already introduced them to his aunt and it was a pleasant feeling having her family mingle with his. Such a striking difference from the time when her father had met his. 

He only made one additional change to the place years later when he ended up slightly remodeling it when their second child was born to maximize the space, but otherwise that apartment was their home.

JD particularly remembered that one moment, not too long after they brought his son home, where he watched as his aunt rocked him in her arms and sang Paul Simon to him herself. That memory would be fixed in his heart for the rest of his life.

He had relations. And the idea that his mother, aunt, and the grandparents he’d never really known had lived in his home previously had given him a sense of permanency and legacy he had never felt before.

It made it all the more stunning when that day in 2005 he arrived home to find his father waiting for him.

* * *

**_Homeward bound_ _  
_ _I wish I was_ _  
_ _Homeward bound_ _  
_ _Home where my thought's escapin'_  
_Home where my music's playin'_ _  
_ _Home where my love lies waitin'_ _  
_ _Silently for me_ **

**-Paul Simon (Homeward Bound)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And okay... that leads into the epilogue. WHICH IS BEING MASSIVELY REWRITTEN. I'M SORRY. I have so many feelings and decisions it needed to be done. It'll come. Also a small sequel about the summer after high school working at a day camp. Mild teaser: JD takes on a camper a la an 80s camp movie like Bill Murray does in Meatballs.
> 
> Kudos... comments... all appreciated. :P

**Author's Note:**

> JD bussing tables in a theme restaurant in 90s Times Square amuses me to no end. For historical context this is probably about the beginning of the Disneyfication of Times Square but still enough of the old time-y sleaziness. Sort of the transition period, I think. Mars 2112 though was the best of the awful theme restaurants in the area, but that didn't open until the late 90s unfortunately.
> 
> Also, Valerie, Phyllis, and their last name Morgenstern are all references to the Mary Tyler Moore Show. #TheMoreYouKnow


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